Misery, Untouchable, If Love was enough
by mixkstyle
Summary: Castiel is having a crisis, caught between his past and the present. Dean still doesn’t understand a thing about Angels but he knows he can—wants to—trust Castiel and the Apocalypse is still on. Slash and OMC. Full summary in the story itself.


**Title**: Misery, Untouchable, If Love was enough.  
**Author**: mitsuki_shizuka  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Warnings**: Angst, mentions of Castiel/OMC  
**Spoilers**: Up to 5-05 Fallen Idol, haven't watched any of the episodes after that.  
**Summary**: Castiel is having a crisis, caught between his past and the present. Dean still doesn't understand a thing about Angels but he knows he can—wants to—trust Castiel and the Apocalypse is still on. Sam is approached by an unwanted ally and gets thrown in the middle of one messy love triangle.  
**Word Count**: ~8000 words  
**Author notes**: This is a story I wrote back in December when participating in the Dean/Castiel secret santa exchange, I'd completely forgotten about it because of school and reviewing etc. But now that I'm free, I thought I'd post it again, after I reviewed it more carefully. Oh and if you want to know, the OMC I pictured in my head is played by Justin Hartley. I tried to think of a French actor but um, yeah I couldn't.

**Misery**

Sam is back with Dean and although they eat the same crappy food, spend the night in the same crappy motels—basically do everything they used to do in the past—nothing feels like before. Before Sam started hanging out with Ruby. Before Sam started becoming this stranger to him, this person who didn't deserve his trust. And how fucked up is that, not being able to trust your own brother? Your own flesh and blood. It's still painful for Dean to look back on everything that happened, to look back on Sam's betrayal; the memory of Sam, mouth covered in blood—_demon _blood mind you— still haunting his dreams at night, along with his memories of hell—which, ironically enough, go along pretty well together to torture him.

Regardless, things are starting to get better. Slowly but surely, he likes to think. Nothing feels like before, but as they both agree, before wasn't working; and maybe this really is a fresh start for both of them, for the better.

Right now they are in what seems to be the quiet before the storm, Lucifer's minions having fun here and there, but nothing too serious for now; and Dean is thankful for that. It gives them time to get ready, to slowly get in the mood for the freaking apocalypse. They stay at Bobby's every now and then, whose life has been reduced to helping them on the sidelines, which isn't much different than before; only before Bobby could still come to their rescue if necessary, now he can't.

"Hello, Dean," he hears the stentorian voice behind him one night, just as he enters the motel room he booked for the night somewhere in Wyoming; and it still startles him even after the countless times the angel appeared without warning. He's too tired to pick a fight, and only gives a nod to Castiel to acknowledge his presence and heads for the bathroom.

"Where's Samuel?" Castiel asks a few steps behind him.

Splashing cold water against his greasy face, Dean feels a whole lot better; he grabs a cloth nearby before answering. "He's out picking up diner."

Castiel nods and they fall back into silence, which pretty much resembles all their conversations lately. Little worlds, short answers, quick and straight to the point. They're just being practical, Dean likes to think; it's not like they have time to chat around or hang out—not that he wants to—but still, Dean wishes Cas was more relaxed around him, after all they have been through. But it's not entirely Cas's fault. Dean still has this image of a depraved Cas every now and then when he looks at the angel, and it just doesn't feel right. He hasn't talked about the future he's seen, to anyone. He wanted to tell Cas—hell, he still wants to—but just couldn't bring himself to actually do it.

"What's up?" Dean asks as they get back to the main room, kicking off his boots and losing his leather jacket to put himself more at ease. He stretches a little bit and rubs his sore shoulders, relieving his tensed neck. Castiel just stands still in the middle of the room, watching as Dean executes his little routine.

"I have been helping one of my charges lately," Castiel starts explaining while Dean lies comfortably on his bed.

"What kind of charge?"

"His name is Clément; he's a hunter as well."

Dean snorts, "What kind of name is that, 'Clément'?"

"It is from _Clemens _in Latin, it means merciful," Cas replies bitterly and if Dean didn't know any better, he would say that there was anger in the angel's eyes.

"Okay, what about him?" Dean tries to shift back the conversation to a friendlier tone.

"He has been working on a case for quite some time now, and he has many leads that could help stopping Lucifer—," Cas starts explaining but Dean doesn't like what he hears and cuts him off—so much for the friendly conversation, huh.

"Hold on, if he has so many leads to stop Lucifer, why didn't he help you with Rafael, mmh? You told me I was the only one that could help you," Dean points out.

"It…It would have been unwise to have him help me," Castiel says slowly, breaking eye contact with Dean, diverting his gaze to the floor.

"Why?"

"Because…He was not available," Castiel replies vaguely, just as he always does and Dean just hates this. "In any case, what he is about to embark on is not safe, he has requested my assistance."

"Wait, what are you going to do? What are you not telling me?" Dean asks and steps closer to the angel. "I mean, what kind of mission are we talking about here, what are those leads? Who is this guy?"

"I told you, he is one of my charges," Castiel answers only one of Dean's many questions, which confirms his suspicions about Castiel hiding things from him. "Clément has done some research and found ancient rituals that will hopefully help get rid of Lucifer."

"Hey Dean I'm back and, yes, I got your pie," Sam barges in and stops to stare questioningly at Dean and Castiel—who are standing very close and don't even react to his entrance. "What's going on?"

"I was just about to leave—" Castiel says but Dean grabs his forearm violently, the gesture surprising Sam greatly. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn't really seen his brother interact that much with Castiel, so he doesn't really know what to expect. He knows they have been in contact many times, he just doesn't know how those encounters went.

"Don't you pull that crap on me again, you still haven't answered me completely," Dean barks. "Why did you come telling me this, huh?"

"I just wanted to inform you so you would be aware of my whereabouts, and that I might not come back."

"Guys, what's going on?" Sam tries again despite feeling like an intruder, because he really wants to know what's up with the two of them. Dean looks really shaken up and upset, which is strange to see him like this and not be the cause of it.

"I'll come with you then," Dean says and his gaze is fierce and determined his grasp on Castiel still firm. "I still have a bunch of questions you better give me an answer to."

"It's in France, Dean; would you really be willing to go there?" Castiel challenges as he jerks Dean's arm away and steps back a little more.

Sam decides now would be a good time to intervene, seeing how the situation is evolving, "Well, I would, even if, you know, I still have no clue what guys are talking about," Sam says and expects to be ignored once again but fortunately this time he's heard.

"Cas here is apparently suicidal and wants to help some crazy French dude who thinks he has found the solution to stop the apocalypse," Dean says sarcastically, causing Castiel to glare at him.

"He is anything but _crazy_, as you put it; besides, I have no expectations from you, not anymore at least," Castiel retorts, this time his tone doesn't hide his annoyance, and for once Sam really feels the holy wrath coming out in waves out of Castiel. "As you once said, we are _done_."

Dean doesn't know how he knows this, but somehow he manages to anticipate Castiel's departure and grabs the angel's arm just before he leaves, thus teleporting him with Castiel.

Dean's heart skips a beat as it usually happens when he's being teleported this way and when he lands back on his two feet, he takes a second to recover and take in his surroundings. He's in a huge office, very well furnished and he's facing a pretty well polished marble door.

"Castiel," Dean hears someone say and turns around to face a tall man standing by his desk, the wall behind him made of glass, giving a great view down on the streets. "Qui est-ce?"

Castiel then turns to face him, his blue eyes piercing and dark.

"You were not supposed to come," Castiel tells him and shifts back his attention to the other man. "Toutes mes excuses Clément, juste un petit désagrément, ne t'occupe pas de lui."

Dean remains silent and abashed by this, Castiel speaking in French, in an almost familiar and easy tone with this tall and—Dean hates to admit it—handsome blond guy who nods at the angel's words. Castiel gets close to him, lifting two fingers and Dean steps back instinctively.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sending you back," Castiel frowns as Dean grasps both his wrists to stop him.

"I was serious when I said I was coming with you," Dean admonishes him with a low voice so the French guy doesn't hear him. He doesn't know why but Dean likes to keep his conversations with Castiel private, especially in this case, considering he doesn't know that Clément.

"And I was serious when I said we were done," Castiel counters and frees himself from Dean.

"Come on, Cas," Dean tries to protest and hates how the words come out, his voice sounding desperate and needy. "Why are you so mad at me?"

" Castiel? Qu'est-ce qu'il se passe ?" Clément asks and puts a hand on Castiel's shoulder, the latter facing the other man and Dean just can't shake the feeling that there's something going on between these two. Castiel jerks away from both of them, he sighs and looks back at Dean, his blue gaze is finally calm and serene, which makes Dean feel relieved.

"Since you are here, you might as well help us," Castiel suggests calmly and the other guy—Clément, is it?—nods as Castiel speaks. Dean looks at him funnily, and as the guy notices his staring, he brings up a hand and says "Oh, um, I'm Clément," he says with a surprisingly fluent English accent and Dean takes a second or two before composing himself and taking the offered hand.

"I'm Dean," he says promptly, "Wait, you speak English?"

"I'm of English and French descent," he explains simply. "So uh, I guess you already know Castiel."

'Yeah…" Dean took a second look around, "So you work here? And you're a hunter, seriously?"

"How am I supposed to live otherwise?"

"Dean doesn't really live an honest life, to human standards you might say," Castiel tells Clément who raises his eyebrows in surprise but eventually nods.

"Attends, c'est lui le gars que t'as ramené de l'enfer?" Clément asks Castiel and it starts to piss Dean off, the French thing that is.

"Could we please stick to English here? I mean, come on man, it's not like you don't speak it," Dean says.

"Of course, I'm sorry, it's just—you know, kind of used to it," Clément says and turns back to Castiel. "So? Is that him?"

"Yes."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks Castiel, not really in the mood to talk to some stranger, a hunter no less, whom he doesn't know, less alone trust.

"He asked me if you were the one I raised from hell," Castiel answers him and Dean wonders just how much Castiel has told the other guy—Clément, but Dean just doesn't like calling him by his name, it's just too weird—about him.

"Castiel, can we talk for a moment, _alone_?" Clément asks and literally drags Castiel along with him out of the office, which is eerie for Dean to see: you wouldn't believe Castiel was an angel if you saw the way he was handled. "Excuse us," he adds with a fake smile—which Dean returns wholeheartedly—and they leave the office. Of course Dean just can't stand still and wait for them to have their nice little chit chat without him, so he gets close to the door and just plain eavesdrops. But apparently, the other guy _really _wanted a private conversation because all Dean hears sounds like gibberish to him.

Even if Dean doesn't understand a word he hears, he still peers out of the little breach he made, opening the door a bit. What he sees is mostly Clément doing grand gestures with his arms while Castiel remains cold as steel. Clément even points at him at some point and Dean jerks away immediately, afraid he might be discovered but thankfully they don't seem to have noticed him. They are arguing, that's for sure. What they are arguing about though, Dean has no idea. But then Dean's eye meets another pair of eyes from across the hall and strangely enough, he feels less guilty eavesdropping knowing that he's not the only one to do it.

Dean's attention is solicited again when he sees Clément cupping Castiel's face in his hands and manages to decipher the words 'Je t'aime Castiel'. Now, Dean is no expert, but he knows he's not stupid enough not to recognize the most famous three-word sentence of the universe. Dean's clenches his hands into fists, his nails dipping deep into his palms as he keeps watching the scene playing out before him; his heart is clenching and it hurts, badly. Castiel has moved away from Clément and Dean feels somewhat relieved, even if he still doesn't understand what is being said between the two of them. The conversation ends abruptly as Castiel disappears, sadness striking upon Clément's face.

Dean steps back from the door and sits hastily on one of the sumptuous couches by the far wall before Clément comes back in the office, looking quite upset. Dean feigns being oblivious and looks up to face the other man, "Where's Cas?"

"Cas?" Clément asks, surprised but then understanding strikes him, "Oh, Castiel…He…he left."

"Super, what about me?" Dean mutters and stands up.

"I don't know, it's still pretty early, I've got work to do," Clément replies as he slumps down on his desk chair, "You're free to do anything you want until he comes back, I guess; there's a little living room at the end of the hallway, you can chill there or you can even stay here, I don't care one way or the other."

"Thanks, I guess," Dean says and nods one last time at the other man before leaving his office. Even though he would rather stay with the other man to interrogate him about Cas, he figures Clément needs time to pull himself together after that heated conversation with the angel. Besides, Dean barely knows what they were talking about so he might as well fill in the blanks while he's at it. And since he's pretty curious about the previous conversation he witnessed partially, he goes to interview his eavesdropping buddy.

Dean knocks a little bit more forcefully than he intended and opens the door after he hears what he assumes to be authorization to come in. The man looks up at him and recognition dawns upon his face.

"I'm sorry to barge in like this," Dean starts to say but is quickly at a loss for words. How is he supposed to ask this?

"No, it's fine, it's a pretty calm day today," the man replies, his accent isn't perfect but Dean is relieved that he could at least understand him. "And, hum, who are you exactly?"

"Oh, I'm just a friend of…uh…" Dean trails off and tries to remember the name, "Clément! Yeah, I'm a friend of his, I'm Dean."

"I'm Laurent," the middle-aged man says and Dean controls himself so as to not laugh, "I've never seen you around here before," Clément's colleague remarks. He doesn't look like any clichéd 50-year-old with a beer belly and balding head, Dean reckons that for a man his age, Laurent—despite his funny name— looks pretty fit. Dean wonders if this is a French thing and if he'd manage to grow old so well himself, what with his healthy diner-food-based diet; or hell, if he will even make it to 50 years old. Plus, there's the freaking apocalypse after all.

"Well, I traveled for some time," Dean lies easily, which is basically what he has been doing his whole life, "So, uh, I suppose you heard what they were talking about," Dean says and gestures toward the door.

"Yeah, awkward," Laurent rolls his eyes. "I never thought Clément was the kind of guy who cheated on his wife, less alone with another man."

"Hold on, you've got to tell me everything from the beginning," Dean's interest is definitely picked, "I didn't understand a word they said back there."

"Well, I didn't hear everything, just heard the incriminating part; it was the usual, you know, Clément told the other guy how he loved him, and the guy told him they shouldn't give in blah blah blah, I got bored and stopped listening," Laurent waves his hands. "I'd seen that man before, he's weird, never thought Clément would be having an affair with him."

From what Dean has seen, he expected to hear something like this, but it still feels weird and he has a hard time digesting what he just heard. He finds some consolation in knowing that at least it's unrequited—as far as he knows, Cas doesn't like Clément. It's _Cas _after all, Cas who freaked out just at the idea of sleeping with a prostitute. But then again, Dean just can't get this image of Cas out of his head, his blue gaze was still so intense, his face had shown so much emotion, it was like nothing Dean had ever seen. He thought angels were not able to feel. It seemed logical, they were just heartless bastards, robotic-like soldiers.

Why does it bother him so much? Dean wonders. All he's been able to think about lately is Castiel, aside from some minor issues with Sam; the angel occupies his mind pretty much 24/7.

He eventually snaps out of his thoughts and clears his throat uneasily; only realizing too late that his silence has been the object of some questioning staring from Laurent. "I should get going, nice talking to you, man."

Laurent nods suspiciously and goes back to his own business, letting Dean see the way out himself.

**Untouchable**

"Hello, Sam," Lucifer greets the young Winchester, his lips curving upwards at the sight of his soon-to-be vessel tensing immediately in response to his presence.

"How did you find me? Am I dreaming?" Sam asked, looking around the room. He's pretty sure he's awake, Dean just disappeared on him with Castiel a few minutes ago.

"Oh you're awake all right," Lucifer replies, "It wasn't easy, believe me, but I finally found you."

"What do you want?" The reply is cold and quick and Lucifer just enjoys the fierce glare Sam is addressing him. There is so much passion in this kid, Lucifer just cannot see any other human more suitable as his true vessel.

"I am merely checking on you, how are you, Sam?" He asks nicely with a soft smile and sits on the bed beside Sam who instinctively shifts on the bed to put some distance between them.

"How do you think I am?" Sam says sarcastically.

"Well, you're lonely," Lucifer replies and knows he's right, if Sam's vulnerable face is any indication, "You really shouldn't have killed Ruby; you know, in a way, she was a gift of mine to you."

Sam snorts at that, "She was just your little bitch whose only job was to get me to free you."

"At least she made you feel good, didn't she?" Lucifer says and he likes the silence that comes with it. "Or would you rather I send you an angel, just like you brother got one? Because I can arrange that."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Castiel, my little brother, don't you think I'd know what he and your brother have been up to?"

"Of course you know, we're trying to stop you," Sam says, causing Lucifer to chuckle.

"Oh Sam, Sammy, Sammy," his laughter dies little by little, "Your brother, he's in love with him—which isn't so bad if you think about it, it keeps him distracted from, you know, _stopping me_? Or at least, _trying _to."

"You're lying, that's just absurd—"

"Is it, Sam?" Lucifer cuts him off, his tone is serious now, "All these times they spent together while you were out of the picture, do you really think these were innocent? Oh and I know they just ran off on you."

Sam remains speechless and looks pensive, he doesn't even notices when Lucifer sits closer to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Think about it, Sam; I mean _really _think about it."

"That's just…No, not Dean, it's just impossible," Sam keeps muttering under his breath.

"Let me tell you something Sam," Lucifer scoots even closer, "From what I remember from my time in heaven, Castiel was one of my youngest brothers, but he was beautiful, one of the most loved angels of all.

"Since I rose—thanks to you—I heard many, many things. One of them being that an angel fell because of Castiel. They were lovers—and, yes, angels can…well let's just say they can commit to one another in a way similar to how you humans do it. But my point is, they were supposed to fall together so that they could_feel _and love each other freely, without any angel duties. Muriel fell but Castiel didn't follow, he was stopped before he could rip his grace.

"It would seem he is…strange and insensitive to you, but Castiel loves with great passion and even now I still see the Castiel I once knew and loved; so it would be no surprise to me that your brother fell in love with him."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sam asks.

"Because you need to know this, Sam, your brother might choose him over you, especially now that he might have to fight for Castiel, " Lucifer smiles sympathetically, which he masters perfectly. "You know what? I've got an idea, let me show you something."

Sam doesn't see it coming, Lucifer's hand grabbing his arm and teleporting him away, feeling as though someone knocked the breath out of him. Sam starts to think angels really do fly, because when he gets a grasp of his surroundings again—after all the blurry images he could only see for a few seconds—he stumbles on his feet, touching the ground again.

"All right, we're completely cloaked, nobody can see or hear us," Lucifer tells him. "I'll let you enjoy this, I'll get back to you later when you'll have seen everything you need to see."

"Where the hell am I?" Sam asked, not recognizing the surroundings.

"We're right where Dean and Castiel are—Wait, they're coming," Lucifer says as he points out at a door on their right, "Okay, that guy speaks French, but don't worry, thanks to me, you'll understand everything they'll say. And remember, Sam, whatever you do, I will _always _be on your side—which is more than I can say about your brother."

After that, Lucifer remains silent, quite satisfied of his work, deciding upon letting Sam marinate his words a little bit in his mind. He knows what's about to happen, he sees Castiel being dragged in the hallway, Sam's confused frown, and knows that everything will go according to his plan. Everything from this point that Sam is about to witness will surely shake him a little, push him forward to accepting his fate. Soon Sam Winchester will be ready for him, and when the time comes, Lucifer will shine bright again.

"What are you doing, Castiel?" Clément asks as they step outside his office in the deserted hallway, revealing how annoyed he actually is now that he is alone with the angel. "Send him back to wherever he came from, we were supposed to do this alone."

"You saw how stubborn he can be, Clément," Castiel replies calmly, "His help might not be unwelcome, considering our situation."

"I don't want him to help us," Clément says and steps closer to Castiel, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. "From what I could hear, he has brought you nothing but trouble; he got you killed, Castiel."

"You knew?" Castiel sounds astonished, Clément nods and takes a deep breath.

"Of course I knew, I heard the angels say it, 'Castiel is gone'," Clément hisses, "How do you think I felt when I heard that?"

Castiel flinches and diverts his gaze away from him when all Clément wants is to lose himself in those bright blue eyes. He hates it when Castiel hides things from him, even if the angel has no obligation whatsoever towards him, Clément feels protective of him and feels this need to know absolutely _everything_about him. But still, Castiel's an _angel _for Pete's sake, whereas Clément is just a mere human.

"You know, I prayed restlessly to have you back…" Clément says softly and reaches out for Castiel's hands.

"Clément, I told you your feelings for me are just a side effect of the exposition to my grace," Castiel says and turns his back on him, fleeing his grasp.

"I don't buy this crap," Clément grabs his arm and forces Castiel to face him. "You mean to tell me I'm in love with you because of your _grace_? Is he in love with you too?" Clément points at the door behind him, obviously referring to Dean, but holds his gaze focused on Castiel's eyes.

"Not that I am aware of," Castiel eventually says, trying desperately to avoid eye contact.

"That's what I thought," Clément says, his hands clenching Castiel's arms even tighter, "Wait, is it because of him? You…You don't have feelings for him, do you?"

"I do _not _feel, Clément, angels don't feel," Castiel admonishes him, clearly annoyed.

"You see, I don't believe you," Clément shakes his head, "I don't know how to explain it, Castiel, I just feel it deep in my heart, it's _love _in its sheerest essence, I've never felt anything this strong before in my life and somehow I just _know _that you feel the same way."

Castiel doesn't say anything and seems to be thinking really fast, his expression looking genuinely surprised and scared all at once. Clément lets himself hope for a moment, thinking his word are finally coming across to Castiel. He's taking a chance, he knows he's insane and irrational and taking a huge risk saying this to Castiel; he has never been so daring in his entire life; the last time he did such a declaration, it was a couple of years ago when he proposed to Angela. He doesn't know why he does this, heat of the moment he guesses, what with this Dean threatening to come between them.

"I don't know, I just feel this strong connection between us, as if we _belonged_," Clément adds, not comfortable with the persisting silence, more hope surging through him as he sees comprehension coming across Castiel's face.

"Clément, you should not act on these feelings, it probably is tempting to you to give in, but you swore faithfulness to your wife before God," Castiel's tone is torn between sorrow and gravity, which takes Clément aback. He expected some sort of agreement from Castiel since the latter definitely understood everything he just said as though he felt the exact same thing.

"I don't care how much I love my wife, it is _nothing _compared to what I feel for you," Clément says desperately and cups Castiel's face with his hands.

"You are a good man, Clément, you have always been, sinning now would just be illogical and it would be the most inappropriate time," Castiel tries to reason with him and Clément just lets out a puff of laughter at Castiel's last words, especially when he can see quite clearly how the angel's heart isn't really in it.

"Why are you fighting this? You love me, I can see it in your eyes; I mean, why else would you have come find me?"

"Because I was given orders to do so," Castiel replies and Clément smiles at that, because he could swear Castiel is leaning in his touch and because only Castiel can seem so innocent while telling a lie. Well it was not technically a lie, but Castiel didn't exactly follow his orders either.

"Yeah but it doesn't explain why you protected from all these demons, carved those sigils on my freaking_ribs _to hide me from the angels—hell, I didn't even know of their existence before you found me, " Clément argues and rubs his thumbs across Castiel's stubbly cheeks. "My point is, I love you, Castiel and I'm pretty sure you love me too; you have gone a long way to protect me from the angels—which you still haven't told me why—so if this doesn't prove your love for me, I don't know what does."

His last words seem to trigger something in Castiel's mind because the latter just snaps and pulls away from his touch and steps back as if burnt by fire.

"If you can't control yourself around me, I don't think we should see each other any longer," Castiel says with a grave voice but Clément still sees the sadness in his eyes. "I will let you some time to compose yourself; you should pray."

And after that, Castiel just leaves Clément behind, broken hearted.

"I can't believe this," Sam breathes out.

"It is true nonetheless," Lucifer says knowingly, "This man? He was once my brother."

"You mean, the angel who fell?" Sam asks but gets no answer as Dean appears out of the office Clément just got in. "He…he still doesn't remember?"

"Fallen angels aren't supposed to remember about their past life, they just live as humans," Lucifer explains.

"You should follow him, I'll let you see the truth about your brother for yourself," Lucifer tells Sam, who nods wordlessly and goes in the office right after his brother. Lucifer makes sure Sam is out of the corridors before he speaks up: "Hello, Castiel."

"What are you doing here?" the words are cold, fierce and wrathful.

"You must have gotten stronger now if you're able to see me, even cloaked," Lucifer replies.

"You should stay away from Samuel," Castiel threatens and Lucifer laughs at that. His brother has not changed; he still sounds so naïve and innocent.

"You are not in any position to give me any orders," Lucifer says, "After all, you're not back from the dead out of nowhere, I think some thanks are in orders."

"You're lying."

Of course he's lying, but he's a pretty good liar, he's a natural. He could lie about anything, spontaneously, not even thinking through it. His point is, he's a good liar. And he sees with satisfaction doubt settling comfortably in Castiel's mind. Lucifer knows where it hurts, and he strikes always accurately.

"You rebelled Castiel, do you _really _think God would have brought you back? We are angels, we are _nothing_to him; or do you not remember the very reason I was punished?"

"You should leave."

"Or…? You really think you can hurt me?" Lucifer challenges, "I know what you've been doing, brother, killing other angels? To take their grace, no less, I must admit I am impressed Castiel, never thought you had what it takes to commit such a crime in the eyes of heaven."

Castiel's eyes widen at this and Lucifer is glad to have been able to stir out some sort of reaction from him. "I know what you're thinking, and I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't think that you will ever kill enough of our brothers and sisters to defeat me. You would have to take on archangels, which I doubt you can…Or is this your next step already?"

Still no answers from Castiel, which Lucifer takes as a yes. His brother sure has changed. "I see, so that's what you've been preparing all this time with Muriel, am I right? Or should I say Clément?"

"You have no right to speak of him."

"Instead of fighting me, we should cooperate, Castiel," Lucifer says and grins, stepping closer to the other angel, "I know hell, as do you, and who in their right mind would want to bring it back with them when they're finally out of it, hmm?"

"That would be you," Castiel counters, stepping back, "You've already started spreading misery everywhere around you."

"I just want to create a better place, a place without the evil that runs among these filthy creatures that never deserved our Father's love, a place where angels could love freely—just as you wish," Lucifer throws in a sympathetic face to add some extra effect, knowing that each and every one of his words are affecting Castiel. "Isn't that what you've always wanted, Castiel? I know you, you're just like me. We angels were created to be nothing but obedient, soulless, heartless, powerful soldiers deprived of the right to love when we can actually _feel_. How cruel is it, Castiel? To be given this amazing gift, this capacity for love, and then being forbidden to enjoy it? I know you understand it, perhaps better than most of our kin."

"Leave," is all Castiel says, almost whispers even, but Lucifer still hears it. It's weak and reluctant and it's enough for him.

"If you join me, you won't have to choose," Lucifer proposes, only this time he's not lying, "You will remain an angel, you will be able to express your love freely, without any consequences," he adds, letting the words sink in. Facing nothing but a silent Castiel, Lucifer considers his work done, "I'll see you soon, brother," Lucifer leaves, spreading his wings free and flying gleefully into the air, feeling like luck is on his side. He is about to get his vessel and another ally by his side, nothing could dampen his mood.

Sam observes his brother intently, Dean seems ill at ease and he almost looks flushed. Although he probably looks confident if anyone else looked at him, but Sam knows better.

He only realizes then that he's spying on his brother, thanks to Lucifer, of all people—or angel, demon, whatever. Oh well, he already started so he might as well go all the way, right?

As he takes time to think back on everything he just learned; Sam realizes many things. One of which is that Castiel sure knows how to seduce guys—he thinks this actually might have been funny under better circumstances, which is not the case. And second, the bastard sure got them into trouble. So Sam lets himself wonder, Enochian sigils, why didn't Castiel do the same for Anna? Why didn't they know about this Clément? Why does it seem like Lucifer might be right, that Dean might be in love with Castiel? But most importantly, why is all of this happening now, of all times, right in the middle of the damn apocalypse?

**If Love Was Enough**

"Sam?" Dean bumps into his brother suddenly, Sam appearing out of nowhere, literally.

"Dean…!" Sam says, sounding surprised. How come Dean can see him? He thought he was cloaked. Just a few seconds ago , he was still invisible to his brother while the latter interrogated one of Clément's coworker.

"Cas!" Dean might as well have forgotten about Sam, turning his attention to the angel who stands still in the hallway, as though petrified. Dean approaches slowly, as if afraid to scare the angel away, "Hey, you okay, man?" Dean touches Cas's arm softly, walking around to face him.

"You're crying," Dean states, shocked to see tears flowing down Cas's stubbly cheek, his eyes yet ever still so cold and serious. And that's when Clément decides to join them, which is just perfect if you ask Dean, it's not like he could have a private moment with Cas anyway, what with Sam being here with them—which, he still doesn't know how it is possible. Everything is going in quick motions, way too much to Dean's liking.

"Castiel," Clément says softly, looking and sounding hurt, his eyes fixed on Dean's hand on the angel's arm, the closeness of their bodies. It hurts, a lot, to see such a familiarity between the two of them. Castiel never dared coming within two feet near him, as if expecting to be burned or something. He thought things were changing earlier, he thought Castiel was finally opening up to him, letting him touch and be so close.

Castiel looks appalled and panicked, looking back and forth between Dean and Clément, and Dean just grabs both his arms this time, tightly.

"You are not going anywhere," Dean says a little more forcefully than intended, and he's quite proud of himself for anticipating the angel's actions so well now.

"Leave him alone," Clément interjects, pushing Dean away from Castiel with one hand—and damn it the guy is strong.

"What's your problem?" Dean is pissed, his dislike for the French dude just keeps growing a little more.

"My problem? My problem is that you treat Castiel like he's your slave when he has done nothing but help you, he deserves more respect than that! For God's sake, he died for you! And you don't even feel a little grateful?" Clément bursts out, letting his frustration and anger out, barking at Dean as if he was about to kill him.

"Clément, ça suffit!" Castiel intervenes, his voice resonating through the walls of the whole floor.

"Yeah guys, let's just calm down—" Sam tries to help as much as he can but he's obviously the fifth wheel of the coach.

"You know what, I don't even know what he sees in you that keeps him coming back for you, risking his life for you," Clément keeps spitting out, ignoring Castiel—and Sam, for that matter.

"You done?" Dean retorts sarcastically, raising his eyebrows in disdain. Sam knows the look Dean is giving Clément, he has seen it enough times in his life, so he anticipates and blocks Dean's arms before any punches are thrown.

"Dean, stop it!"

"Let me go, Sam!" Dean is furious and struggling like a fish out of the water.

"He just loves Cas, try to understand how he feels!" Sam whispers as low as possible.

"Oh I know how he feels all right!" Dean says, "Don't you think I felt miserable when I learned Cas was freaking _destroyed _by a freaking _archangel_? I love him so much it hurts just thinking about it!"

Sam lets go of Dean, speechless, as are Clément and Castiel who both look flabbergasted by Dean's last statement. Sam probably is too, but Dean's back is facing him so he can't tell. He is surprised himself by his own admission, he was so caught up in the moment he blurted it out before he even knew what he was saying—least of all, knew what it was that he felt for Cas. The heart clenching whenever he worried about Cas, the sheer happiness at the sight of even the littlest hint of a smile on his face, it all adds up somehow. Maybe he likes Cas after all. Or hell, even loves him; at this point, Dean doesn't care anymore.

"Okay, you know what, I think we should all get in this office and calm down, we are already getting everyone's attention guys," Sam says calmly and gestures for the door. They all do as he says—thankfully might he add—and he closes the door behind him.

"So, Cas, you might want to explain to us who this Clément really is first," Sam prompts him as they all stand awkwardly in the middle of the office. He knows damn well who Clément is, but Dean doesn't and he thinks his brother deserves to know the truth. Sam actually feels a little guilty after his meeting with Lucifer, learning all these things about Castiel, so he tries to give it back to Dean.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Clément asks Sam, and goes to sit at his desk, rubbing this eyes tiredly.

"He's my brother," Dean replies and looks at Sam, "You want to tell us how you even got here by the way?"

"Lucifer brought him," Castiel answers before Sam has even a chance to come up with a reply. Sam glares at the angel, feeling betrayed.

"Come again?" Dean says, coming closer to Sam in a menacing way.

"I haven't done anything, he just wanted to show me some things," Sam puts his hands up in defense.

"Yeah, like what?"

"Like, Cas and Clément's past relationship? And your newfound love for Cas that's so obvious even the devil knew about?" Sam says more confidently, turning to Castiel this time. Dean follows his gaze just as he planned, shifting his attention to the angel now.

"What is he talking about?" Dean and Clément asks at the same time, ignoring the other nonetheless. "You and him?" Dean adds, gesturing between Castiel and Clément.

"Cas here hid Clément from the angels, he was supposed to come and get him just like he did with Anna, but he disobeyed," Sam explains, seeing the anger growing and becoming more apparent on his brother's face.

"Hold on, _he_'s an angel?" Dean asks Cas and grabs his shoulder, "Look at me!"

"Castiel," Clément stands up and comes close to the angel, "What does this mean, what the hell is this all about? And who is this Anna?"

"You're a fallen angel, that's why you could hear them," Sam does most of the explaining after all, saving Cas the burden, "Anna is another fallen angel we've encountered and Cas here was supposed to kill her so that she wouldn't fall into the hands of demons, but she got her grace back and now…I don't know what happened to her," Sam finishes, realizing he's been talking probably a little bit too fast, but Clément nods in comprehension so he most likely understood the flood of words he just spilled out.

"How do you know all this?" Dean asks Sam.

"Um…Lucifer told me," Sam replies uneasily, and decides to cut his brother off before the latter starts yelling at him, "Hum, anyway, apparently, in your past life, you and Cas were…you know," Sam trails off, feeling even more ill at ease now, looking at the three of them; Castiel still remaining silent.

"I don't understand, how is that even possible…?" Clément says, sounding confused. "I'm an angel?"

"You _were _an angel," Sam corrects him, "It's normal you don't remember anything."

"I was right then, I wasn't alone in this," Clément comes closer to Castiel, looking him in the eye with a hopeful smile. Cas looks so vulnerable, as though he was about to break down and Dean doesn't like how this is going one bit.

"So, let me get this straight, you disobeyed, for _him_?" Dean grabs Cas's shoulder to make him face him—and getting him out of Clément's grasp as he does so, " Why didn't you just do the same for Anna? That would've saved us a lot of trouble!" Dean reprimands him, causing Cas snaps out of whatever haze he was in, and seems relieved. Cas finally looks up at him, his gaze his fierce and piercing again and Dean almost flinches at that.

"I do not have to explain myself to you," is Castiel's only reply, dry and cold, turning his back on both of them, before he leaves, without Dean catching him in time.

"Hello?" Castiel answers his phone, holding it close to his ear.

"Hey, Cas, it's me," Dean says with a relieved tone.

"What do you want?" Castiel asks, more out of exhaustion than anything else.

"I…I just want to talk, is all," Dean replies, clearing his throat. They fall into silence, for what seems to be an eternity. Castiel doesn't have anything to say and so does Dean, apparently. Or perhaps is Dean thinking about what he wants to say.

"What's up with you Cas? I mean, you have not been yourself lately."

"I apologize," Castiel says, and feels genuinely sorry for his behavior as of late. He knows he has been losing control over everything, his feelings have not been fading away as he had hoped they would, his prayers were vain and useless. Lucifer was right. Angels were not supposed to let their feelings run on their own course. Feelings are irrational, chaotic and only lead to troubles. Clément broke down his barriers, all of them and if he had not sensed Lucifer's alarming presence, Castiel probably would have given in to Clément's advances.

"Could you come to me? I don't want to be saying this on the phone," Dean asks him and Castiel is too tired to refuse him this. He should not see Dean, not when he is so vulnerable. But he cannot just run away from his problems forever.

"Where are you?" He asks in defeat, realizing his voice probably shows how tired he feels.

"I'm uh…" Dean pauses, probably looking for any sign of where he is, "I can't read this, boulevard…of…what I guess is hospital?"

"Boulevard de l'hôpital, all right."

Castiel hangs up and flies straight to Dean.

"Hey."

Castiel has no word to speak, he only nods at Dean to at least acknowledge him. Dean takes him by surprise, cupping his face with his hands and planting his lips on his. Castiel doesn't know how to respond to this, and mostly stays still while Dean explores his mouth with his tongue. Castiel wants to push Dean away, he _needs _to. Dean doesn't seem to give up however, as he presses their bodies close together, the contact sends shivers along Castiel's back. It's new, and strange, and overwhelming. But it's not bad, Castiel guesses; this human way of expressing affection is not as bad as he thought it would be. He even takes pleasure at some point and finds himself completely surrounded by Dean: Dean's body, Dean's scent, Dean's soul. It's all Dean he's feeling, through this one simple and long kiss; it's Dean in so many ways that Castiel cannot stop himself anymore and gives in.

Dean eventually pulls away, slowly, not letting go of Castiel's stern face. "I wasn't imagining things, was I?"

"No," Castiel replies honestly, because while he may have voluntarily omitted telling some things in the past, Castiel could never lie to Dean. For so many years, Castiel has been a good angel, a good soldier; never letting his feelings take much importance. Dean has changed all of that, within so little time that it seems unreal.

"You love me?" Dean asks cautiously and Castiel feels Dean's heart pounding loudly, he sees Dean's emerald eyes shining with hope and fear. People are watching them with what seems to be awe and fascination—they are mostly youngsters, Castiel notices, wandering around in front of the teaching hospital—but Dean apparently can't bring himself to care, which is just fine by Castiel anyway.

"Yes," Castiel answers, "but it's not enough, Dean."

"I know," Dean admits with defeat, pressing his forehead against Castiel's, head down as he watches their feet. Eyes shut, Dean clears his head and just _feels_; he finds himself in love and not feeling anything else. Castiel is an _angel_, and no matter what crap people say about love, it's not enough, not this time. If love was enough, Dean would wrap it around him and never let go. If love was enough to make Castiel stay, in case they survived the apocalypse, it would surround him.

"I love you, Cas, I love you so much," Dean says, the words sounding strange coming from him, which is probably why it moves Castiel so much. Dean is an impassive wall of solid bricks when it comes to the matter of the heart; Castiel could still see right through him though and what he saw every time was unconditional love and faithfulness, everything that made Dean the great man he is today.

"Love is never enough, Dean," Castiel repeats and steps back, pulling away from him, "Not in my case; it never has, and it will never be."

Castiel flies away reluctantly, making sure no one in the area would remember him; an angel stupidly struck by love, for two humans no less. There's no place for love for an angel, even more so when the world needs to be saved. But he wishes it was.

**Fin**


End file.
